#then internally i was like 'i can never show anyone anything i ever put any amount of effort into ever again. due to the Fear.'

[mollypaup]

what if i started making and posting art again. what then.

[mstigeress37-blog]

König x Stubborn! Reader

ＳＵＭ．You and König end up giving each other the silent treatment. Right when he thinks you'll give in, you shock him, causing him to come crawling back to you.

A reminder that long-term silent treatments over petty arguments are not girlboss and slay!!

'Girlfriend' and German 'mouse' used, implied short reader <3 (but also who isn't short in comparison to this giant)

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

You and König had been in a petty argument the day before (something about keys going missing), it got to that point that, last night, he slept on the couch.

Little did you know, it was all a part of his elaborate scheme: he'd always been the one to come back to you, so for once, he'd like to see you do the same. So when he took away your nightly cuddles, he knew you were deprived of him.

He walked into the kitchen and caught sight of your morning mug. Smirking, he strolled over to it with a pep in his step and tucked it away into the tall cabinet; far enough in that it won't fall, but far enough out that you can easily spot it. He made sure to put any other mug out of reach, too.

He carried on with his routine of making himself a coffee before his oh-so-beautiful girlfriend walked in. He leaned his back onto the kitchen counter and lifted the mug to his lips, concealing his smile that showed how excited he was to see you break your winning streak of silent treatments and ask him for help.

You internally groaned at the sight of the distance between you and your mug. You glanced over at König before rolling your eyes; from his cheeks raising ever so slightly behind the mug, you can tell he's laughing to himself.

When you look back at König, he's making eye contact with you, eyes staring with anticipation.

But you just smile innocently before walking over to him, holding eye contact. König stands up properly as his ego inflates, straightening his back and setting his mug down, his smile turning into his infamous smirk. All before you bring your hand over to the gap between the counter he was leaning on top of and the fridge, bringing out a foldable stool.

Little did he know, however, was that you had bought a foldable stool a few days before since you wanted to bring up the topic of missing keys and knew you were both a bit too stubborn for anyone to confess to anything (even though you knew you haven't done anything).

Absolutely flabbergasted, all König can do is stare and watch as you grab your mug with a gleeful smile. He waits for you to set it down and, before you can get off the stool, König comes over and sweeps you up in one smooth motion, your stomach on his shoulder and your arms flailing around behind him to let you go.

He makes his way over to the sofa in the living room and practically manhandles you so you're stradling his lap. He wraps his arms gently but tightly around your waist and pulls you in close so you can't do anything but let him hug you. You can hear him muffle out a 'when did you get that stupid stool...' into your collarbone. You just laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You gonna tell me what you did with my keys yet?" You ask, attempting to pull away but he doesn't budge. He stays quiet for a bit before pulling away himself, still keeping you in his grasp, just not as tightly so that he can see your face and gauge how he should proceed.

"I may have hid them so you could stay a bit longer." He grumbles. You feign an offended look. "You're never late, mein maus, you could spare a few more minutes with me..."

You chuckle again before you take your hand and squish his cheeks together, forcing him to pout. "You're so silly. Just ask me next time." You say before pulling him into a cuddle. You force your bodyweight to the side so you've both gone from sitting to lying down and cuddling, laughing and kissing each other's faces off with small pecks.

There was a moment of silence where you just stared into each other's eyes before he got up all of a sudden, squishing you into the sofa as he got on top of you to get off and onto the floor on the other side of you.

"I'm gonna break that damn fuckin' stool." He said, grunting like an old man when he got up.

"WAIT, BABE, WAIT-"

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Requests are open!! I don’t do smut :))

[mythicalmisery]

Bull Rider AU: GhostxSoap

Bull rider Ghost and clueless Soap who doesn’t know the hat rule. 

Soap had a stupid smile on his face as he picked up a discarded, black cowboy hat and put it on his head while turning to Gaz. They had been heading back to their seats after a quick snack break when Soap had spotted it, unable to help himself. 

 “Ye think I can pull it off?” he asked grinning, completely unaware of the hulking figure that had appeared at his back only moments later. 

Soap froze at the deep, yet still whispered, “Don’t think that belongs to ya, mate,” spoken right beside his ear. He could feel the other’s hot breath on his skin.

His eyes went wide, pleading, as he looked at Gaz for a lifeline. His friend had the same expression reflecting back at him, unsure what to do either. Without any help from Gaz  Soap turned around.

His eyes met a broad chest clasped in a black leather vest, decorated with various patches of brands and sponsors he had never heard of. He slowly lifted his gaze to the man’s face, or at least what was showing of it. The lower half was covered in a black bandana with a skull design painted onto it.

It was real dusty and the man was clearly one of the riders competing, so Soap didn’t think twice about it. Hell, he wished he had one right now to hide his own embarrassment that was surely written all over his face.

The only thing he could make out underneath the stadium lights were amber eyes and blond lashes that matched his mop of sweat-clumped hair that stuck to his forehead. Those eyes that pinned Soap to where he stood and felt like burning flames licking at his skin.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice coming out dry and crackly despite his efforts. “Sorry mate, didn’t mean to offend anyone,” he tossed out in an attempt of easement.

He grabbed the hat off his head, stretching out his hand and offering it back to its rightful owner. The man didn’t remove his gaze from Soap once as he took his hat back. 

Soap was all too aware he had been holding his breath during the whole interaction. He was hoping the man wasn’t offended by Soap touching his property. A fight was the last thing he needed right now, especially three beers into his night. His internal panicking was interrupted by the stranger’s gruff voice.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell ya not to go ‘round touching things that don’t belong to ya?” Soap took a reflexive step back when the man took a step forward. 

He could still see Gaz out of the corner of his eye, which helped a little knowing he wasn’t alone if things went to shite. Although, he would feel really bad if he made Gaz get into an altercation and ruin their night out due to him being an idiot. 

Soap laughed nervously. “Always seemed to have a problem with authority and rules.”

That had the other raising a brow. “That right?”

There were alarm bells ringing in Soap’s head. The adrenaline pumping through his veins should have been warning enough but he never claimed to be smart. The man glanced over Soap top to bottom, as if he was assessing him. The undivided attention had goosebumps breaking out over Soap’s skin. 

He leaned in closer, invading the already non existent space between them. 

“Do ya know what the hat rule is, mate?” he asked with a smirk, like he already knew Soap didn’t.

“Uh, n-no.” Soap felt like a bumbling idiot. 

The man simply nodded at the answer he was already expecting. He lowered himself until he was looking over Soap’s left shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 

Soap could feel the heat flood his face like a dam opening. 

Oh fuck.

It was as if Soap’s mind, mouth, and pretty much whole body went offline. He couldn’t seem to get anything to work after the other man’s words had registered. Well, except maybe one body part, that seemed to be working just fine.

After standing frozen like an idiot once again for too long, he somehow managed to stoke the last dying embers of a functioning brain cell and took control over his body once again.

With a nervous laugh he took a staggered step back, his arms outstretched in a placating way. The man wasn’t angry, but fucking hell was he intimidating and Soap needed some space to breath especially after that comment. 

“Oh, well that’s.. uh.. ye know, we really should be getting back to our seats,” he spewed out while grabbing Gaz by the shoulder. Soap didn’t wait for the man to say anything else, leaving him to stand and watch as he scurried away like a coward. 

He made a beeline for their section in the stands, subtly adjusting his now uncomfortably tight pants. He glared at Gaz when he made a comment at his flustered appearance, doing his best to block out his incessant teasing. He felt like he was fifteen years old again, popping boners when the wind blew just a little too strongly.

The announcer came back on over the intercom speakers, introducing the next round of riders as they finally reached their seats. Soap did his best to try and focus on the riders in the dirt down below, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of that man’s breath on his neck, the way his voice was that deep even at a whisper, the way his eyes made his skin feel like it was lit aflame.

And as if God was playing a cruel trick on him, his gaze was drawn to the rider getting ready to mount the bull in queue. It was him. 

He couldn’t make out too many details from this far up, but he was able to spot that familiar mask on the jumbo screen hanging in the center of the arena. The man had his hat on this time. The same hat that Soap had just been wearing. He couldn’t deny it, the man looked good in it. 

The announcer chimed in, getting the crowd going. Gaz leaned over, hitting Soap’s shoulder as he whispered, “There’s your man.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth at his friend’s words. Soap glanced back up to the screen, eyes scanning until he found what he was looking for in big, bold letters. 

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Simon. Fuck. Even his name was hot. 

He looked back down to the roping box, the bull that - Simon? Ghost? - was about to ride. It was fucking massive. He could see it already bucking and ramming the sides of the fence from up in the stands and on the screen, clearly pissed off. 

The anticipation in the arena was electric, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Ghost settled himself on the bull. While the men around him steadied him with their hands,  Soap’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t even know the man but his stomach was twisting into knots. 

He watched as Ghost adjusted his grip on the bull rope and flexed his hand, his muscles tensing under the strain displayed on the big screen.

Soap’s breath stuttered as the gate flew open, the bull exploding out into the arena twisting and bucking with raw power. Ghost moved with fluid precision; the man’s arm raised into the air, his waist snapping back and forth in perfect sync with the bull’s wild movements. Soap couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely captivated by the sight.

The crowd roared around him, cheering and shouting their encouragement as Ghost held on. Soap found himself leaning forward in his seat, his breath caught in his lungs. He silently willed Simon to stay on just a few seconds longer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the ride. Ghost leaped off the bull, landing as gracefully as one could while running from a crazed animal with horns. Soap’s heart was still pounding as he watched Ghost run back toward the gate, somehow still maintaining his casual demeanor as he climbed over. 

He watched as the rider disappeared behind the gate and out of sight. Gaz elbowed him playfully, a knowing grin on his face. “Go congratulate your cowboy, he just one first place,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Soap whipped his head to the scoreboard, eyes scanning before he saw Ghost’s name jump to the top as his points were entered. He couldn’t help the stupid smile spreading across his face. 

“Ye sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, already standing up. Gaz scoffed, “Get the fuck outta here Soap.”

Soap put his hands together in a mock prayer. “Thank you, Garrick.”

He turned around and nearly sprinted down the stairs, cursing the crowds blocking his way. He had to make it down there before the rider left.

Soap finally managed to make it down to the ground floor, booking it to the area cornered off for the riders and their crew. He got farther than he thought he would before security stopped him, asking for his pass that he clearly didn’t have. 

He tried a handful of excuses but there wasn’t any reasoning with the man. He was about to ask if he could at least pass on a message for him before he felt someone brush up against his back. 

“He’s with me.” 

Soap swallowed. That low, gravelly voice back in his ear. Right where he wanted it.

The security guard stood there a moment before he nodded at Ghost and walked away, as if Soap wasn’t even there. 

It took a herculean effort for Soap to turn around. He was very close to losing his nerve and chickening out of this whole ordeal. Hell, he didn’t know this man. What was he doing? 

“Now, what are ya doing all the way over here. Breaking more of those rules, I see,” he said forcing Soap to take a step backwards. 

Soap cleared his throat, voice coming out surprisingly steady. “Well, I figured I would congratulate the winner.”

“That so?” he asked with a tilt to his head.

Soap took a step forward in a random burst of boldness. Now or never. 

“Aye, I also think I owe ye a debt,” he punctuated by grabbing the hat off the man’s head and placing it upon his own.

Soap wasn’t sure if it was the passing headlights from the sea of cars and trailers behind them, but he swore Ghost’s eyes flashed at his words. He leaned down in a mirror image of their earlier interaction, a strained “Follow me,” was spoken in his ear.

Soap let out a deep breath as he watched the man walk away. Not ashamed to admit he enjoyed watching him as he did so. Fuck. This was happening. 

They walked through a dirt and gravel lot off to the side of the arena. Soap observed the ranchers loading the livestock back into trailers under the parking lot lights as they passed through.

They ended up on the outer edge of the lot, the closest light post was a few cars down so it wasn’t overly bright where they were. Soap nearly missed it when Ghost turned a corner around a large parked trailer. 

He followed suit, unable to stop the embarrassing yelp that left his mouth as he was thrown against the side of said trailer. All thoughts of cursing the man out disappeared when Ghost’s lips were crashing against his. The initial impact had him grunting, the sounds immediately swallowed by Ghost’s domineering mouth. 

Soap couldn’t breathe, and normally he wouldn’t have any complaints about the matter given the situation, but he was starting to get lightheaded. He reached his hands up, gripping onto that leather vest and regretfully pushed the man off of him. He gasped at the separation, greedily filling his lungs at the first opportunity.

“Air, air is good,” he wheezed out.

The bastard huffed a laughed right in Soap’s face. Between the night sky and Soap’s racing mind, he hadn’t quite registered that Ghost had taken off the bandana from earlier. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, just barely making out the details of the face currently six inches from his own. 

He was fucking beautiful. 

Soap didn’t need sunlight to come to that conclusion. He had strong features; a Roman nose that had clearly been broken one too many times and never healed quite right, full lips that had a small scar running across the bottom as if it had been split in a fist fight and never got the proper stitches. He had another scar going from his chin to his neck, the moonlight illuminating the silvery healed skin that was no doubt part of an impressive collection. 

Soap couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face when he realized how blatantly he’d been checking out the other man. To his credit, Ghost just stood there; not saying a word while letting him have his fill. 

His attention drifted back to reality when a wave of lights and shadows danced across their faces as a car drove by. Soap unconsciously grabbed onto Ghost’s vest, pulling him onto himself while trying to melt into the trailer out of fear of getting caught. 

“Relax,” Ghost whispered. 

His mouth moved down to Soap’s jaw, kissing his way across his flushed skin until he reached his ear. Soap couldn’t help the full body shutter that racked through him as the man licked up the shell of his ear before biting down on the tender cartilage.

He turned his face slightly to the right in a poor attempt at stifling his moan in Ghost’s shoulder as the other slotted his knee right between his legs. 

Fuck. He hadn’t realized just how hard he was before Ghost started grinding against him.

The friction was almost unbearable, just the right amount of pain to still be pleasurable but still not enough. “More,” he groaned out. All reservations about sounding too desperate were out the door, he needed this man. Now.

Ghost turned his head to stare directly at Soap with a smirk plastered on that stupidly handsome face. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he teased. 

He didn’t even give Soap time to defend himself before he was reaching down to undo his belt buckle and slide his hand down Soap’s boxers. 

“Fuuuck,” Soap hissed out as Ghost gripped his cock with those rough and calloused hands. Every twist of the man’s wrist had a jolt of pleasure shooting up Soap’s spine. His hand had felt like a branding iron, scorching to the touch and Soap had no complaints over the claim.

He was full on panting now. The only air he could manage to get was what Ghost allowed him when his lips granted reprieve. 

Soap was gradually nearing his breaking point. He normally would have been embarrassed for not lasting longer, but he decided to give himself a break when he’d been sporting a semi nearly the entire second half of the event. No thanks to the bastard who currently had his tongue shoved down his throat. 

Soap hadn’t even realized the involuntary bucking of his hips, his body’s feeble attempt to get off. The shallow thrusts got quicker, insinuating his building release. Just as Soap was about to reach that blissful moment he had been craving all night, Ghost snatched his hand away and removed them from Soap’s pants entirely.

“Oh, you fuckin’ bastard,” Soap spat out at the other man. 

Ghost stood straight before clicking his tongue. “We have a debt that needs paid now don’t we, darling?” he cooed at Soap who did his best to not let the pet name affect him too much.

Soap groaned in frustration. “Then hurry the fuck up cause I’m not gonna last much longer, ya fucker,” he growled out.

Ghost shook his head at him. “Ya sure do have a mouth on ya,” he stated.

“Aye, ye can do something about it next time.” Soap didn’t really care that he just left an opening for this to occur again, mind too preoccupied on the fact his balls felt like they were about to explode. 

Ghost had that smug look back on face as he reached into his pocket for something. He pulled out a set of black keys and pressed a button, the black truck behind him flashing its lights twice before he put them back. 

“Are ye kidding me? Your car was here the whole time?,” Soap whined. 

“Sounds an awful lot like complaining, mate. Not a fan of being watched, are ya?” Ghost taunted. The way he talked to Soap like he was a child was some fucked up mix of extremely hot and infuriating. 

Soap glared at the man. “Get the fuck in the back seat. Now.” 

Despite Ghost narrowing his eyes, Soap didn’t leave any room for argument and the other man complied with no further complaints. 

Ghost climbed into the back of the truck, spreading out across the seats with his hands resting behind his head as he looked at Soap. Well, didn’t he just look like the cat who got the cream. 

God, he was fucking hot.

Soap climbed in after him without another word. With the door closed, the lights in the truck went out and the space was filled with darkness once again. Soap was straddling the man’s massive thighs, nearly hanging off the edge. It was cramped, barely any room to move but he would make it work. Had to make it work. 

“Just gonna sit there and look pretty, darling?,” Ghost snarked, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Soap replied with no real heat. He reached out to undo Ghost’s belt, hoping the way his throat bobbed at the clear outline in the man’s pants wasn’t visible in the moonlight. Good lord he was massive. That earlier apprehension started to slowly creep back in and wash away his false confidence. 

Ghost made another one of those clicking sounds with his tongue that had Soap freezing his movements. When he looked up into the man’s eyes, he couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped. Ghost had a way of looking at him that sent every warning bell and nerve in his body off like a crack of lightning. Like a predator finally catching his prey after having it in its sights for too long.

“Get undressed,” Ghost demanded.

Normally, Soap would put up a fight just to be an ass, but he didn’t have much fight left in him at this point. He was so on edge, so close to finally getting off he was honestly scared what he would do just to make it happen. With nothing more than a roll of his eyes in complaint, he started undoing the buttons of his shirt. It was only a matter of minutes before Soap was spread across the man’s lap in the back seat, completely naked. 

He felt like his brain was melting. There shouldn’t have been something so hot about the fact he was completely naked and bare while Ghost hadn’t even removed so much as his hat during all this. He could feel the rough denim on the sensitive skin of his thighs, the cold buckle from the man’s belt when he leaned forward just an inch. Soap wasn’t even ashamed when he realized he had been slowly grinding himself against the man, anything to ease his burning desire.  

Ghost finally spoke up, but Soap didn’t even stop his movements. “What’s your name?” he asked with that low and rough voice. Soap’s own ego was slightly stroked, he could hear the strain in the man’s voice despite the calm demeanor he was trying to convey. 

“John, but most people call me Soap,” he breathed out. He was two seconds away from ripping the clothes off this man himself.

“Soap? What kind of nickname is that?”

“Says the man called Ghost?” he quipped back.

“Alright, I’ll give ya that one. Why don’t you go on and get yourself ready for me, darling?,” he asked, but they both knew it was another command.

Soap couldn’t help the pointed stare he threw at the man. “Ye gonna make me do all the work, is that it?”

Ghost’s lopsided smile was answer enough. “I’m not the one who picked up the hat, Johnny.”

Johnny.

Fuck, why was that so hot to hear coming from his mouth? He really needed to get this thing moving.

Soap held his fingers out in front of the man’s mouth. When all he got was a questioning look in response, he rolled his eyes and pushed them against his lips. “Suck,” was all he said, patience wearing thin now.

Ghost opened his mouth slowly, letting Soap glide his fingers over his tongue. They were probably dirty as hell, covered in germs and popcorn butter but he didn’t really care at this point. The bastard would live. 

He was mesmerized as he watched Ghost work his tongue across his fingers. His mouth was hot, but nothing compared to the flames dancing across his skin as Ghost never lost eye contact during the whole ordeal. He could probably cum from this alone.

Before that thought became reality, Soap pulled his hand back. Watching the string of spit connecting his fingers to Ghost’s mouth glisten in the moonlight. 

He cursed lowly as he gripped himself in one hand, rising slightly before reaching around. He entered himself without a fuss, moaning at the friction as he slid his fingers in further. It burned a little, Ghost’s spit only helping ease the way so much. He preened like a peacock when he felt, more like heard, the other man’s sharp inhale below him. 

He started moving with a little more urgency at that, opening himself up while rocking his body back and forth. He wasn’t overly moaning like a whore, but he wasn’t exactly trying to hold back anything either. Quite enjoying the sharp little intakes of air and jerky movements of the man beneath him. He managed to get up to three fingers before he found that particular spot inside him. This time, his moans might have been a little porn starry. Ghost finally lifted his hands at that, gripping onto Soap’s hips like he was his lifeline. 

Soap wasn’t having any of that. He swatted the man’s hands away, pushing down on his chest with the hand not currently inside him when Ghost tried to protest. “No touching,” he scolded, taking great pleasure in the frustrated look on his face. 

Ghost grunted in response, like a damn toddler who didn’t get his way. “Awww,” Soap cooed at him, “Needy little thing, aren’t ye?” he said, throwing the other man’s words against him.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t complain any further. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so,” Soap replied. 

This time, when he went to undo Ghost’s belt, he wasn’t met with any resistance. With quick movements, he had Ghost pulled out in no time. Fucking hell. Massive was an understatement. It took everything in Soap to school his emotions. He wasn’t letting this bastard know how intimidated and equally impressed he was. He must have done a shit job cause Ghost had that satisfied, smug look back on his face. He could probably read minds for all he knew.

Soap gave a few quick pumps to Ghost’s cock before he lined himself up. He froze just as the other man was about to enter him. 

“The hat,” he said. It took a while before Ghost could tear his eyes away from where Soap hovered over his cock, the words finally registering before he reached up and placed his hat on Soap’s sweat-slicked mohawk. 

They were both burning up, feeling like a damn sauna in the backseat of the truck. The windows had fogged up a while ago as they swapped air in the small space, thankfully providing a thin form of privacy. 

Soap smiled as he adjusted the hat with one hand, the other still lining Ghost up as he slowly lowered himself down. 

Fuck.

They both moaned in chorus as Soap’s still too-tight heat enveloped Ghost’s cock. He sunk lower and lower at a glacial pace, letting gravity do the work and take some of the strain off his shaky legs.

He bottomed out eventually, resting on Ghost’s hips as he caught his breath. Ghost was panting below him, chest heaving as his body was strung tight with tension. Soap knew the man was dying to take control. Too fucking bad.

When Soap’s world wasn’t spinning anymore, he lifted himself back up before repeating the process all over again while setting a steady pace. He wasn’t going very fast, but he didn’t really need to. Ghost was so big that he reached all the spots he needed him too, the stretch and burn sending bolts shooting up his spine was enough for him.

He gripped tightly onto Ghost’s leather vest with his right hand, his own make shift bull rope as his left held onto the black hat resting on his head. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Ghost, but he still had to lean and bend at a weird angle to fit in the cramped space. He started to pick up a little speed, his movements mimicking Ghost’s from when he rode the bull earlier. Soap snapped his own hips back and forth, occasionally grinding down in a circular motion that had Ghost groaning unabashedly. 

He wasn’t normally one to be overly cocky, but he basked in the satisfaction of ruining this man. That calm and collected demeanor washed away by the panting, barely held back animal beneath him. Hell, he was equally just as ruined. He couldn’t contain the little punched out moans that escaped every time Ghost hit his prostate on each rock backward. He wouldn’t last a minute longer and judging by the shaking man before him, he wasn’t the only one. 

“S-Simon, pleaaase,” Soap groaned out between moans. He tried to convey everything he was thinking and wanted in that one word. Ghost being the mind reader he was picked up on it without dropping a beat. Like he was waiting for it.

He immediately grabbed onto Soap’s hips with enough force to bruise. Fuck, Soap wished they would. With one last glance at the man below him, Soap closed his eyes as Ghost started jackhammering into him. The car was a symphony of curses, moans, and grunts. Neither man holding back now. Soap removed his hand from the hat and pushed it against the ceiling, trying desperately to find purchase and not fall over. The rough movements had the sweat from his forehead running down his face, beads dropping onto Ghost’s chest off his nose and chin. He couldn’t find a single fiber of his being that cared.

His end was nearing and he wasn’t going to deny it this time. “Fuuuck, don’t s-stop,” he moaned as Ghost abused his prostate at the angle they were in. If Ghost decided now was a good time to tease the man, Soap would probably end up committing murder.

He could tell Ghost was almost at his breaking point as well. The man’s thrusts started to become wild, losing all sense of coordination as he chased his release. Soap screamed out when Ghost lifted his hand off his hip and grabbed his cock, pumping it in an off beat against his thrusts, never allowing Soap a second of reprieve from overwhelming sensation. 

“Go on, cum for me, Johnny,” he rasped out. Who was Soap to deny him?

Soap’s whole body seized as Ghost slammed into that bundle of nerves harder than he’d done all night. It felt like lightning was shooting through his body as his vision whited out. He didn’t even feel bad that he made a mess all over Ghost’s vest, too blissed out to even care. Ghost lasted around three and a half thrusts more before he was following Soap over the edge as well, cursing his name as he did. It was the best thing Soap had ever heard in his life. He responded with a groan as he felt Ghost empty out inside him. The feeling making his own spent cock twitch in response. Round two was not an option currently on the table. Soap felt like rolling over on the floor right there and taking a twenty hour nap after this. He didn’t think Ghost would mind very much.

They sat there for a few minutes, chests heaving and skin sweaty where they were still connected. Soap started looking around, his eyes scanning the man’s truck before he found what he was looking for in the center console. He popped the lid off and held it between his teeth as he unzipped Ghost’s soiled vest and unbuttoned his shirt. He ignored the curious eyes watching his movements. With the man’s chest now bear, Soap moved the marker to scribble out his number in his chicken scratch. He pulled back, looking down at his work with a satisfied expression as he capped the marker and tossed it over his shoulder. 

“Give me a call next time you’re in town, cowboy,” he said as he slowly raised himself off of Ghost’s softening cock. 

He wasn’t sure if the man had even heard him. His attention drawn to where he pulled out of Soap, his cum slowly starting to drip down his thighs. It was gonna be an uncomfortable ride home. He glanced around and grabbed his discarded clothes, doing his best to put them back on in the limited space. Ghost just sat there watching him, lounging across his backseat without a care in the world. 

Soap finally managed to put his shoes back on, pulling out his phone and ordering an Uber ride. He turned down Ghost’s offer to drive him home, he needed to get away from the man so his brain wasn’t mush anymore. With one last glance around, he leaned over Ghost on his knees. 

“Ye know, I like this hat. I think it’s mine now,” he stated.

“That so?” Ghost asked as he looked up at Soap.

“Yeah, it’s mine. Ye know what that means?” 

“What?” Ghost responded, genuinely curious. 

Soap lifted up the hat before lowering down, placing it back onto Ghost’s head as he whispered low in his ear. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

Soap didn’t say anything else as he exited the vehicle. The smile was uncontrollable as he walked across the gravel lot back to the car pick up zone.

 A man with a short circuiting brain laid in the backseat of his car behind him.

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments

Flaws

This may get controversial.

I welcome anyone else’s view point on this topic. If you don’t agree I’m okay with that. Just because I have a different perspective doesn’t make what I think right or wrong. You don’t have to change your mind. Whatever your opinion is, I respect it. Besides, it’s fun to have different views on something we both love. It gives us a way to see different sides of the coin.

Disclaimer: I’m a person who didn’t grow up with this franchise and only recently got into in early 2022. I have no biases towards any version of this character. Making my opinions about his characterizations mixed.

By the way, I’ll only use Sonic games as examples (for the most part) because this analysis would be too long if I talked about other medias.

In short. Most of his flaws do stir into different medias as well. To be honest, Sonic’s other variants aren’t as different as some may think, but that’s my hot take.

Times The Blue Blur Messed Up

Riders: Sonic lunched Amy along with Eggman into the air with his wind abilities. While knowing Amy’s safety would be at risk. Then left her. Which was the reason she was so angry and aggressive afterwards. He didn’t ever apologize either.

06: Exchanged a chaos emerald for Elise even after Tails warned Sonic not to.

Unleashed: Was distracted by taunting Eggman.

Sonic: “Well, this is new. Showing remorse Eggman? If you played nice, I wouldn’t have to break all your toys.”

Then became the Werehog. All because he wanted to boost his ego.

Secret Rings: Shahra used Sonic to collect the world rings for Erazar Djinn. Even though it should’ve been expected because she said, “They use to work together.” Ended up not being true.

Black Night: Was tricked into helping Merlina who wanted to create a world that would last forever.

Lost World: Tails once again tried to warn Mr.Impatient about the conch in Eggman’s hand, but kicked it anyways. Then warned Sonic about another trap, he didn’t listen, ended up getting the fox captured instead.

Frontiers: Accidentally helped free The End despite Knuckles and Sage’s suspensions. If his friends, Eggman, and Sage didn’t help him…..Well, it’s in the villain's name.

Side Note: In Secret Rings, Black night, and Frontiers Sonic was rude at points.

Sonic Sassiness

Sonic Sassiness Part 2

Sonic’s Overall Flaws/Mistakes

Some may be from his general characterizations throughout his history.

Sonic rushes into things without a second thought. (Impulsiveness) Sonic can be too reckless, brash, or not take situations seriously.

He’s impatient. (Which was his core trait since his idle animation in Sonic 1)

He doesn’t listen to his friends warnings. Sonic can be too cocky at the wrong moments. He causes or contributes to world ending consequences. The blue blur can also be too trusting and naive.

Sonic doesn’t worry about his own physical or mental state and internalizes his emotions. He isn’t able to express himself very well. Therefore doesn’t put the right words together when speaking sometimes.

Sonic can be stubborn and a bit of a jerk.

Sage: “You are short tempered and short sided.”

And that’s about it. If I missed anything, feel free to let me know.

My Thoughts

A few of these can be seen as Sonic’s strength and weaknesses. Like his willingness to harm himself if it means to save his friends.

The reason Sonic never learns from his mistakes in the games is because he gets away with them. Which is not a good or bad thing per say. (Besides Sonic Riders. There’s no excuse for that.)

The stories never really given him an arc. But I don’t think Sonic’s a perfect or flawless character. If the examples I’ve shown are evidence of anything.

I’d say he’s static, but not consistently. Most static characters I’ve seen rarely stays static anyways.

I also don’t believe Sonic himself thinks he’s perfect. Sonic probably thinks he doesn’t have to change because he’s so sure he should be able to manage things without issue. Everything does eventually go his way. Why should he change?

I do understand Sonic influences people, but why can’t there be a balance? It’s been done plenty of times with other characters. In books, movies, and tv shows. Animated and live-action.

Movie!Sonic in Sonic 2 inspired both Knuckles and Tails. Helping them better themselves with advice and encouragement. While also going through his own arc of growing up and being responsible.

Tails:“You’ve inspired me. To leave my village. To find you and help you on your mission.”

Despite him learning how to slow down and plan things out, Prime!Sonic also inspires the different variants of his friends. Thorn, Dread, and Nine. Helping them grow into becoming better people.

Even in Unleashed Sonic was at his most mature, but it was only after his cocky attitude got him into trouble. So, yes. Inspirational characters can have flaws.

I’ll just say this

Everyone has their own views on how Sonic should be characterized, drawn, played, voiced, animated, and showcase.

It’s fine if you don’t like a curtain interpretation of a character, but to say the character (Especially if they weren’t very consistent in the first place) isn’t acting like themselves now, it’s really hard to argue what self there is to come back to. Because even in the games there are so many different selves for these characters in their own canon universe. From Classic to Adventure, Unleashed, Colors, and Frontiers. (If that makes any sense)

It’s hard to find one place to be in because Sonic’s been in too many places at once. He shouldn’t be held down to one characterization if he’s already been all over the place from the beginning of his existence.

AKA Sonic’s first two shows ever. TAOSTH and SATAM. In both shows Sonic had flaws as well, but never learned from them. Which means he’s been like this from the start. Like everything else about this franchise, his personality is an ongoing experiment that’ll probably never be solved. And I kind of love that. Even if it can be stressful and has it’s own up’s and down’s

All of these unique stories from the games, comics, tv shows, and movies people grew up with are what made this franchise so popular. This is the main reason I became a Sonic fan. Because I learned so much about characterization from this franchise and how to love the different variations of its characters. Finding an appreciation for each of them.

Conclusion

Everyone’s opinions are valid at the end of the day. At least we all have a version of this character we can love and appreciate. Whether you agree or not I’m grateful you’ve made it all the way to the end. You’re a trooper!

Stay Creative! 💜

[catscidr]

Can you make a scenario with obedient reader who is getting experimented on by Dottore please ☺️

nonnie i started writing this at 1 in the morning yesterday because i couldn't stop thinking about it and i may or may not have gone over my self imposed word limit. however....... hot doctor. so. hope u enjoy because ik i sure as hell did ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: dottore being just a biiit creepy, slightly suggestive (?), normal tension + sexual tension asgnfns includes: fem!reader, dottore wc: 1,9k

“Stick your tongue out.” 

Dottore places his gloved thumb on your tongue, knocking you out of your daze.  

As per your routine, the doctor performs a quick, partial check-up to assess your physical state before diving right into his scheduled experiments. What he had planned you never knew; such was the joy of being one of the second Harbinger’s playthings. 

He gazes into your mouth with an almost bored expression as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. Being so close to his face, you could feel the warmth of his breath tickling your cheeks and the sharp point of his mask just barely grazing your jaw. When finally satisfied, Dottore mumbles something about nothing that’ll skew the test results and pulls his hand back, wiping your saliva off on his coat. You shut your jaw and look at him expectantly, waiting. 

He turns his back to you and rummages through a drawer, taking out an assortment of what appears to be wires coming out of a small rectangular box with even more wires sticking out of that. You glance at the machine and then back up at Dottore, a question burning on your tongue that he answers before you get the chance to voice it out loud. 

“This right here,” he sets the machine down on the table and plugs some cables into his laptop, “is a polygraph. Do you know what it is?” he asks with the ghost of a smile, hands buried in his pristine lab coat. You nod silently. 

“A lie detector,” the doctor says, disregarding your answer. He takes out a vial from his pockets and brings it up to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, observing how the liquid shone at the right angle. Letting his arm fall to his side, he takes a few steps around the table and towards the chair you’re sitting in, bending down to your height. 

“Do you know what this is?” 

He brings his hand up to show you the vial in question. A purple, slightly translucent solution that came halfway up the thin glass, shut tightly with the help of a small cork seal. You already knew what you had to do with it, but not what the liquid itself did. Slowly, you shake your head and tear your gaze away from the liquid, looking back up at the man in front of you. His expression doesn’t change for a second, observing your own carefully. 

“Simply put, it’s a truth serum. Anyone that drinks this will find that they will be rendered unable to lie. Of course, the serum itself is still being tested, which is precisely why you’re here,” he says, his smile growing just slightly. You part your lips, hesitant to speak. 

“So, you... want me to drink the potion and then take a lie detector test to verify whether it worked or not?” you ask with a small glimmer of hope in your eyes. The doctor nods curtly, his expression unwavering. You internalize a sigh; looks like you lucked out today and won’t have to endure any physical torture this time around. 

“Now drink,” he says, emphasizing the order by taking out the cork top with a quiet pop, bringing the vial up to your lips. Your hand reaches up to grab the glass but right as you reach it, Dottore uses his free hand to swat your hand away. You tear your gaze away from the serum and look up at the doctor- his expression flat, lips devoid of the small smile that was previously on his face. He pushes the vial closer to you, the edge of the tube pressing against the plush of your lips, forcing you to tilt your head back ever so slightly. 

“Drink,” he repeats, his deep voice rumbling your nerves. 

You part your lips and tilt your head back even more, allowing the Harbinger the space to push the vial past your lips. Your throat bobbed as soon as the serum made its way down, Dottore’s stare unwavering from your face. The purple serum slid down smoothly; the lack of any discernable taste only being slightly unnerving, all things considered. 

Dottore stares at you long enough for you to start becoming nervous by his presence. However, as soon as your pulse quickens, he leans back and puts an acceptable distance between the two of you as he puts away the, now empty, vial back in his coat pocket. 

“How do you feel?” 

That makes you pause. How did you feel? Nervous, anxious? Awkward, even? The answer was an obvious all of the above. However, this was in response to Dottore’s unusual closeness, not in result of the serum changing your body in any way, shape or form. In fact, you didn’t really feel anything other than your heart racing in your ribcage. You felt strangely normal, which only fueled the slight agitation boiling in the pit of your stomach; feeling anything less than discomfort when subjected to Dottore’s experiments was nothing short of unusual. But, knowing he couldn’t care less for an answer that doesn't regard the effects of the serum, you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

“I feel fine,” you say as normally as you could. Dottore narrows his eyes, observing your behavior with interest, but doesn’t push further. 

He directs his attention back to the polygraph on the table, wires hanging loosely off the side of the surface. Grabbing the four cables, he peels off the protective film off from the sticky sides and sticks two cables on your temples and one on your wrist. Holding the last cable, he looks down at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Tilt your head back for me,” he says quietly, voice unassuming. 

You do as he says and, as soon as your throat is revealed, Dottore plunges his hand into your shirt. He sticks the last cable to the top of your left breast, fingers grazing the plush skin for a moment before he retracts his hand and rounds the corner of the table. Your heart pounds in your ribcage, your poor, weak mind reeling at how physical he seemed to be getting despite the psychological nature of the experiment. He makes no further comment as he opens his laptop and does whatever it is he needs to do in order to start the test. 

“Keep staring at the wall. I’m going to be asking you a series of questions. You are to answer with the first thing that comes to your mind, in the most natural way possible. Understood?” Dottore says rigidly. You nod quickly, replying with a quiet yes, sir. 

“Then let’s begin. What is your name?” he asks, leaning his chin into his palm. 

You tell him your name which, obviously, doesn’t make the lie detector go off. He nods and continues, asking questions that range from “where are you from”, “when is your birthday” and “how tall are you”. 

However, the more he speaks, the more his questions become increasingly... risky to answer. 

“What do you think of my experiments?” 

Holding your tongue, you mull it over for a moment. Even though you knew that no matter what you intended to say wouldn’t matter, that you’d just tell the truth no matter what, you wanted to think carefully either way. After a moment you part your lips, still staring at the wall like he instructed at the start, and speak. 

“Sometimes they can be painful, but I know you’re doing what’s best for me and... everyone else.” You felt the way your hands clammed up from sweat, the plastic chair becoming increasingly uncomfortable for you to sit in without shifting your weight. Dottore looks at the screen of his laptop and grins, his gaze finding your tense figure once again. 

“What do you think of me?” he asks, and even though you can’t see his expression, you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You respond without allowing yourself to stress over what your truth is. 

“I think you have a strong work ethic, and I... admire you for it.” 

His lips stretch into a wide, uncharacteristic smile. Dottore stays quiet, stalling for the next question to let you simmer with what you just said. He shifts his position on the table, leaning forward over the computer with both hands clasped in front of him. 

“And what do you think of me, not as a Harbinger but as a simple, regular man?” he asks coyly, his mask hiding the way his crimson eyes pierced a path into your side profile. 

“That you’re attractive,” you blurt out, head tilting to the side away from him to hide the way your cheeks immediately warmed up. The doctor scoffs, amused by the sheepish display merely a few feet in front of him. 

“Hm. Good,” he hums to himself, straightening his back to lean into the chair he sat on. “Look at me,” he orders firmly. 

Not even giving yourself the time to process his words, you automatically turn your head to look at your captor. The sight of his pleased, seemingly innocent smile made your heart flutter. He grabs the side of his laptop and turns it around so you can look at the... blank screen?  

Before you can question what exactly it is you were looking at, Dottore speaks up. 

“I wasn’t tracking your answers. I lied to you. What did you say you felt after drinking the serum?” he asks with a tilt of his head, amusement clear on his face. You freeze, brows raising ever so slightly as the cogs turn in your head. 

“Nothing...?” you murmur quietly, slowly understanding what he meant. 

“Nothing, because you just drank water. With a dash of food coloring, sure, but water nonetheless.” 

“Ah.” 

Looking at his intricate mask then back down at the blank laptop screen, you felt yourself become increasingly embarrassed the longer the silence between you two stretched out. Dottore chuckles heartily, the sound revibrating in the small room as he stood up to loom over your figure. 

“Technically, you could still call this an experiment. What if you did lie? There’s a possibility you did since nothing forced you to tell the truth. However, I know you wouldn’t.” 

He leans down to your height, a gloved hand coming up to tilt your head back, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re always so good to me, you know. So obedient, compliant and malleable,” he sighs, a soft and eerie smile on his face. “My favorite test subject,” he whispers. 

Glued in place, you do nothing aside from staring up at him with wide doe eyes, your cheeks flushed as a result from the attention he gave you. 

“What a good girl you are,” he mumbles to himself, but still loud enough that you can hear. The doctor was so close that you could just barely feel the warmth of his body against you aside from his hand holding you still, his lips ghosting over your own. 

With a chuckle, Dottore straightens his back and looks down at you with a knowing smirk, acutely aware of the effect he had on you. He hums, faking being lost in his thoughts, conscious that you sat there, waiting, silently begging for more. 

“How about a reward, then?” he suggests in a low voice. “Prove yourself to me, prove that you spoke nothing but the truth, and I’ll reward you handsomely.” Dottore tilts his head in a way that can only be described as condescending, smiling at your bashfulness. Slowly, he takes off the wire stuck to your body, his hand lingering beneath your shirt, over the cable stuck to your chest. 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that, my pretty test subject.” 

[rollinouttahere-writes]

helloo!! Can we please have dark chocolate number 13 with Ace pls \(//∇//)\ thank you!!♡♥︎♡♥︎╰(*´︶`*)╯🍫♡

Yandere Ace x GN!Reader

1.1k words

Prompt:

I’m so happy to have you here with me, I will never want anyone else. You have more of a hold on me than you’ll ever know.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve last seen Ace. An eternity in his book, barely a breath of fresh air in yours. During your precious alone time, you elected to stay in his cabin and tidy up the place. His tendency to just throw shit and leave it wherever it falls left the room in a chaotic state, and that got on your nerves given that this is where you spend almost every waking moment of your day.

Going out amongst the other people on the Moby Dick always left a bad taste in your mouth. They would give you pitying glances at best, but never lend a hand to help. They ultimately cared more about Ace’s well being than yours, and since your presence was directly tied to his mental state, your fate was sealed.

You never asked for any of this. No one wants to get dragged off onto a pirate ship because the captain of it got too attached. You had a glimmer of hope that you may be able to escape after the Spade Pirates were forcibly disbanded by the Whitebeard Pirates, but as already stated. They weren’t much help. At first they couldn’t even get close to you without Ace trying to kill them, but eventually he grew on them. Then they were helping keep you on board, lest he spirals. 

The relationship you had with Ace could be very draining. That fun, rambunctious side of him that had originally drawn you in was only a part of him. A front that he put on. In reality he was an intensely depressed individual that had become much more comfortable showing that side of himself to you.

In normal circumstances, this would be a heartwarming show of trust. Typically this would be a steady step in the right direction to build a healthy relationship, but nothing about your relationship was healthy. The exposure to his depressive episodes felt suffocating more than anything. While he would be sobbing into your chest and clinging to you for dear life, you would be forced to comfort your captor out of pure guilt from seeing him look so broken. You felt more like an emotional support animal than a human significant other some days.

Going back and forth between hating and pitying him was dizzying. Not to mention the bizarre form of codependent love that had been thrown into the mix. You never knew what direction your emotions towards him would go any given day, just like you never knew what kind of a mood Ace would be in.

It was exhausting. You felt like you needed a vacation to recuperate at the end of every day, but you of course never got one. So you would have to settle for the moment of peace you’ve been granted in this messy cabin.

The door is suddenly kicked open and you internally curse. Your quiet moment is done and over with now. You should have cherished it more.

Strong arms lock around your waist, heave you up, and spin you around. Ace seems to be in a good mood today, which is a plus. “(Y/N), I missed you!”

“It’s only been a couple of hours, you’re acting like it’s been months,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

“What? A couple of hours is a long time, it felt like months.” He had mercifully stopped spinning and was looking around the room. “Where’d all my stuff go?”

You rolled your eyes, “All I did was stuff your dirty clothes into the hamper. Don’t know why you even have that thing seeing as you never use it.” It had a fine layer of dust that would gather over it in between your sporadic uses when you got fed up enough to clean.

“Not everything was dirty, most of those were still good!”

“It’s not “good” if you have to do like three sniff tests to determine that! Just wash that shit!” You were squirming to get out of his grasp, thoroughly irritated from bickering about you cleaning up his laundry.

Ace laughed and shrugged, “Maybe I’ll do it later.” Yeah right. He walked towards your shared, unmade bed and tossed you onto it before throwing himself on top of you. Oh. He’s feeling cuddly today. Great. Well, as long as he doesn’t start crying it won’t be so bad.

A kiss was placed against your cheek with enough force to squish your face, and then he unceremoniously flopped down, further squishing you into the mattress. Instead of using your chest as a pillow like he usually does, he nestled his face into your neck. His arms snaked underneath you to keep your bodies fully pressed together.

The man was a walking furnace, so you were already beginning to sweat. Such a thing didn’t bother him, but it was uncomfortable for you. Not that your discomfort was enough to deter him, you would be stuck in this position until he’d gotten his fill. This was far from the first time you’ve been subjected to this, so you knew what he wanted. One of your hands plucked his already partially dislodged hat from his head and tossed it aside so you could run your fingers through his messy hair, the other one rubbed slow circles on his back.

Ace hummed in contentment from your ministrations, and his body sagged more than it already had against your own. His hair was tangled, a common occurrence for anyone primarily living at sea. Your fingers worked meticulously to undo all of the knots. You weren’t particularly gentle with it, but he wasn’t flinching from every tug so you can’t imagine it was that harsh either.

For a while, nothing is said. Ace enjoys your company, while you feel obligated to acquiesce his wants and desires.

“I’m so happy to have you here with me, I will never want anyone else. You have more of a hold on me than you’ll ever know.” The words are spoken in a hushed whisper directly into your ear.

There it is again. That pesky, traitorous feeling of affection. The flutter of your heart from being so desperately wanted- needed even. Your impulsive inclination to comfort someone so clearly in need even though it’s absolutely not your job to do so. You wanted to “save” him almost as badly as you wanted to save yourself.

It made you question if he was the only one with serious psychological issues here. Have you always had this savior complex, or was it a recent development brought on by your living situation? 

This wasn’t something you wanted to think about today. You sighed and clutched Ace closer. Maybe it would be for the best if you just turned your brain off for a little while? Thinking too hard on your circumstances has never done you any good.

[youwouldneverbreakthechain]

I don't like the Found Family trope.

There, did I get your attention? It's true, but the question is, why is Guardians of the Galaxy still one of my favorite stories in any medium ever?

Something really clicked for me with the ending of Vol. 3 (spoilers ahead, natch). The team broke up and that kind of development is usually heartbreaking, because we love the team, they love each other, now that they've found each other why should they ever part ways?

The answer is that they're a family, and that's what families do. Growing up means leaving the parents who raised you and finding a path of your own, maybe to someday continue the cycle with kids of your own, but never losing what you got from your first family. Those people, who you can't choose, will always be a part of you.

Each of the Guardians, aside from Drax, had their childhoods interrupted by traumatic events. They didn't get to finish growing up naturally, and that loss hounded them all their lives. When they found each other they began to heal, but here's what I didn't realize until the end of the trilogy: the family that they found with each other wasn't the kind that you make when you grow up. It's the kind that you grow out of.

From the beginning, Peter has shown signs of "Peter Pan Syndrome," acting like a little boy even though he's highly skilled, courageous, and compassionate. His maturity gradually began to show through, but one quirk that kept coming up was his refusal to return to Earth. No good reason for it except that he couldn't bear the reminder of his mother and he was ashamed to face his grandfather. He can handle it now because his life with the Guardians gave him the stability he needed to become a true adult.

Gamora's new incarnation doesn't need the Guardians because she found the Ravagers instead. We don't know much about them but I expect that what they did for Yondu, they'll do for her too. In the meantime, Nebula's had a few good years of being loved and now she can follow the footsteps of the Gamora who was lost, aside from falling for Peter, because that's unlikely to ever work again.

Groot's been the most fortunate, not having his youth cut short or taking any serious trauma since he sprouted. Eventually he may want to strike out on his own, but until then it's good that he can stick with Rocket.

Mantis seemed more aware than anyone of their internal struggles, including her own. Which is appropriate, her being an empath and all. She really made the boldest possible move, going it alone, and I'm proud of her. Hoping she'll make an appearance in The Marvels or something else before reuniting with Peter and/or the Guardians.

Drax is a special case and the one who I thought was most likely to die, since it seemed like his arc was all wrapped up: he had his childhood before we met him and it was his adulthood that was ripped away from him. Revenge was his entire deal and Ronan and Thanos are dead now, so what's left for Drax? Well, it turns out revenge doesn't have to be his entire deal and now I'm embarrassed I ever thought otherwise.

Rocket...oh, Rocket. We always knew that he was something other than what nature had intended, and that was on top of the nonstop physical and emotional abuse, but now it turns out he already lost the only three people who put anything good into his sad little life. Since there was nothing to salvage from his upbringing, he was the one who needed the Guardians the most, so he's the only founding member to stay. But no mistake, it matters that he's staying as the leader. He's not alone, but he's not under anyone's control, either. He knows who is now and he knows his worth.

The "don't call me a raccoon" running joke always bothered me a little but I never dreamed it would have a payoff like it did in Vol. 3. Rocket claiming his full name is much more than a nod to his comic origins. It's his understanding of where he began and the injustice that was done to him, his acceptance that he wasn't at fault for the deaths of his first companions and that he does deserve to be loved by the Guardians.

That's the foundation that lets everyone part ways without having to ask each other if this means their relationships are over. As far as I've seen, no other found family in fiction has reached this point - the team is generally the endgame, and if someone leaves, things will never be the same again.

In a real family, a good one, when someone leaves we celebrate. Congratulations on your first apartment. Good luck at college. Blessings on your union. Just remember, you can always come home again. Our arms are open for you.

[satansaidnottoday]

When they are sick: human Au.

Info: Human AU, GN!Mc.

Summary: how do they deal with being sick and how can you help them.

Warnings: just general talk of sickness.

Lucifer

He ignores all of the symptoms and signals that he's going to be sick.

Even if you try to tell him to take care, he will tell you it's just a sore throat.

He's sneezing all over his paperwork and can barely breathe.

He won't take a single day off. He'd just chug some pills and act like his fine.

In the end, you have to force him to bed when the fever takes over and he's writing down nonsense. You let Diavolo know he won't be working the rest of the week.

Protests and whines about it, but it's too weak to do anything about it. Internally he's actually glad someone cares for him, but it's too prideful to admit it.

He will sleep most of the day, trying to pass the sickness as fast as possible. Bring him tea, and some medicine, and put on his favorite classic vinyls. It will help immensely.

When he is better he thanks you genuinely. Being the oldest brother, he never got to rest and get taken care of. He's very appreciative.

Mammon

The moment he feels the smallest indication of sickness he starts to whine about it.

He just wants attention. Your attention specifically.

If you give in and console him he will latch on to you and act way worse than he actually is.

If you don't he will whine even more about you not caring about him.

"Mc! You're do cruel, I could die you know…"

Over dramatic when the cold actually hits him.

He's in bed with the lowest fever ever, crying because he's going to die.

Encourage him by saying he's way stronger than any sickness and he'll instantly stop.

You're right! The great Mammon can't lose against a common cold.

Won't let you leave his side. Gets really needy and asks you the most random questions to keep you talking to him.

"Okay but what's your second to last favorite animal?"

Will get better pretty fast, his immune system is amazing. He will pretend to still be a little sick to get pampered tho.

He will buy you presents as a thank you for taking care of him.

Leviathan

He ignores the symptoms at first. It's not like he leads a super-active lifestyle anyway. Playing video games all day can't make your cold worse.

His immune system is shit due to how little he goes outside, so when it hits, it hits really hard.

He says he's okay and can take care of himself. It's a lie, he not only wants you to take care of him, he desperately needs it.

He gets high fevers and skull-hammering headaches. Every time he sneezes he feels like his brain is rearranged. He can't even sleep because of the pain.

He clings to you and whines about the pain.

"Why meee?"

You make him his favorite chicken ramen because that's all he wants to eat.

Since he can't look at screens, you read him novels to keep him entertained.

When he gets better you stay over for a marathon of every new anime episode he missed.

Satan

He starts preparing when he feels the symptoms coming.

He tries a few home remedies he read about, but they rarely work.

When he is actually sick, he will arrange time off work. He has his doctor on the line and already made a run to the pharmacy to get real medicine.

Takes a lot of short naps.

His symptoms are strong, but he knows how to manage them.

Reads most of the day. Only allows the cats into his bed. Sadly, that doesn't include you.

He won't let you come close, he will even try to convince you to not visit at all. Of course, you still show up to make him vegetable soup and refill his honey tea.

When his eyes sting too much to read, you sit at a cautious distance and narrate to him whatever book he wants.

Gets better pretty fast.

He surprises you with homemade dinner as a thank you.

Asmodeus

He panics when he realizes he is going to be sick. Tries to deny it until it's too late.

He hates being sick, more than anyone else. He hates the puffy eyes, the swollen nose, the chapped and broken lips.

The only saving grace is you. He loves the extra attention (like he doesn't get enough already).

He actually has a pretty good immune system and has barely any symptoms.

Doesn't exaggerate his symptoms like Mammon, he just straight up tells you to pamper him.

And how could you say no to that face?

You spend the week holed up in his room because he doesn't want to be seen by anyone but you. Every time he needs you to run an errand for him, he frames it as a mission.

Your most frequent mission is getting more chocolate.

Skincare, skincare, and more skincare. You use around 20 different masks a day.

When he is feeling better he wants to go out and have a proper date.

Now you gotta pamper him because he was sick before! He couldn't fully enjoy his time with you.

Beelzebub

Has an immune system made of steel.

Rarely gets sick, and when he does he just goes on with his normal life. At most, he gets a low fever and has to test for a day.

You can convince him to take a little rest by offering to cook for him. Anything will do, even just instant soup. He just loves the thought of you cooking for him.

He will try to help, do not let him. One thing he does get when sick is dizzy. You don't want him near anything hot.

He is completely fine by the next day. I wish we could say the same about you.

He infected you. Now you're in bed with a high fever and can barely move.

Don't worry tho! He will make you the best chicken soup you've ever tried.

Belphegor

You would think he is another drama queen, but honestly, he doesn't have the energy for that.

He already expects you to spoil him at all times, sick or not.

He gets sick too often to make an event out of it. The winter, the change of seasons, and humidity variations; everything gets him mildly sick.

Of course, that's just a great excuse to take extra naps.

Doesn't care at all about infecting you, he will demand you cuddle him the whole time.

You're the greatest body pillow ever, so of course he needs you to feel better.

A lot sweeter than usual. He will drop the snark and be pure fluff.

Force him to eat some vegetables, he will never get better if he keeps sustaining himself on snacks and candy.

If you're strong enough, you will have to carry him everywhere. His bones hurt too much to walk.

If you're not strong enough, you will build muscle dating him.

Not much will change when he gets better, he'll just have more energy to tease you.

A little bonus Lucifer scene. Because I'm shameless about my favoritism.

"Luci, I think you have to go to bed," you said as you raked your hand up Lucifer's hair. He looked at you from his desk, his eyelids dark and red.

He tried to speak, but his throat hurt and he gave up. He let himself rest against your touch. He slowly shook his head.

"You have a fever, angel," you leaned down to whisper, caressing Lucifer's face and feeling it burn under your hands. "What you're writing makes no sense."

You tried to explain, but Lucifer wasn't hearing anymore. He hugged your lower body and let his head rest against it, looking for comfort. You gave him your arms and helped him stand up, guiding him all the way to his room.

Thanks for reading!

[dragonfly0808]

college advice? i’m starting in the fall 😭

oh FUCK

Kay, so, I’m no professional here but I am about to pass into my 6th semester, so will hopefully soon be wrapping up my 3rd year of college so here’s some of advice

First off, go in the mornings, if you have a chance to do your schedule, go in the morning, it’s so fucking heavy to have to go in the evenings, did that once, never again

try to find a website or blog where students can give teachers reviews, these exist for most colleges and while it can be very hard to build your schedule based on the best teachers and I wouldn’t recommend doing that, it can help you be mentally prepared and know what each teacher values most ahead of time

always have smth to entertain yourself. You WILL have teachers who don’t show up or constantly cancel classes and while its fun using that time to catch up with friends, you should take a book or smth with you to keep yourself entertained during down time

if you have AFI’s (I have no fucking clue what they’re called in english but they’re activities, conferences, talks, outings, stuff like that) check how many you can do per semester and keep up with them, don’t leave them till last minute. For example, I need 14 to finish my career and can do up till 4 valid ones per semester but can only do them till my 7th semester. So check on that if you do have them as a requirement as well

Make sure you check out every part of your campus to know the best hangout spots. This is mostly just for yourself and to not get lost.

Hang out at your library if you have one, check out what they have even if you don’t particularly plan to use that many books, it can help motivate you and find more passion for your career if you’re feeling down or having doubts.

learn how to properly reference articles (perplexity is a great tool to find references)

make sure the teachers at least recognize you and, I would recommend to limit yourself to a certain number of classes you can miss. I try to limit myself to skip 3 classes from each teacher and try to not miss at all, the teachers recognizing me as someone who always goes has given me second chances and opportunities for extra points.

ALWAYS DO OPTIONAL PROJECTS FOR EXTRA POINTS, even if you feel confident in the subject, better to be safe than sorry

carry a cardigan or a light sweater and a small umbrella. You never know what teacher is gonna put the AC like it’s antartica and an umbrella can save you from sunburns and unexpected rain

carry headache pills or any medication you use semi-frequently, also a small utensils kit cause who likes using disposable utensils when you can carry your own + it’s better for the environment, also a hair tie

have an ‘emergency kit’, I have one that barely takes up a lot of space in my backpack and I am just now having to refill it 5 semesters in, I have mini deodorant, a small toothbrush/toothpaste I’ve never actually used, mini wet wipes, mini hand sanitizer, mini perfume, mini brush, toilet paper, band-aids, pads and kleenex.

^ these last 3 are cause my mama taught me to always be prepared and cause I personally can be a bit paranoid, I’m the mom-friend who always has anything anyone could ever need :) so those are according to the type of person you are. I also carry an UNO card game for when multiple teachers cancel on us (yes my backpack is very heavy but the paranoia can’t catch me if I’m prepared)

If you’re propense to low-sugar do NOT skip breakfast and try to carry a small snack, or in general always carry a small snack

if your career involves having to go to the laboratory, LISTEN TO THE INTERNS/LAB ASSISTANTS, half the time, they’ll know more than the teacher

remember, when it comes to group projects, you don’t have friends, you have classmates. Someone can be a great friend but an awful classmate and I am not risking a grade over a lazy friend, prepare yourself to separate those 2

try to figure out what to listen to when doing hw or studying, me personally, classical music (specifically cello music from the barroque period) really helps me focus

ALWAYS DO YOUR HOMEWORK, those are some of the easiest points to get

Finally, don’t be afraid to decorate your backpack! One of the funnest things of college to me (cause I was at a strict school for middle school and spent highschool in pandemic) has been to decorate my backpack with pins!

I’ve found a great thing about college is that genuienly no one cares about your interests and you can freely express yourself without fear of being bullied or ridiculed. Everyone is far too tired or focused to care. At least that has been my experience so far, be ridiculous if you like

I have ATLA pins, an asexual flag, spider-gwen, a matching carebear with my bestie, the school mascot and a dinasour (still looking for a winx pin)

I think that’s all I can come up with for now, so yeah, hope this helps and best of luck bestie!

[variousqueerthings]

i will say -- and this isn't news to anyone who watches elementary -- but there's such a cognitive dissonance between the episodes where sherlock and/or joan are doing things blatantly outside of the law in order to protect A Victim (for example the episode where Sherlock knows the killer is the teenage boy who was abused by his father, or when Sherlock went to see Kitty as she was considering murder and kinda went "you may not like being a murderer, have you considered acid?") and episodes that are like. super pro-cops

and yeah yeah any show related to crimes will have copaganda, it's not an indictment of anything more than what happens on a million other shows however I do think it's more whiplash in this one, because those episodes are like. "Cops. we look out for each other. Cops who narc on corrupt Cops are more the enemy than the corrupt Cops themselves. I will literally begin a harassment campaign against this civilian (Joan) for looking into whether a Cop was corrupt even though her findings cleared her. this is not A Bad Person Thing To Do. because I am A Cop. and if you try to complain about harassment I'll know you're not To Be Trusted around Cops. who put their Lives on the Line. Brothers In Arms who can never ever be questioned because of The Sacrifice. that episode where Gregson's daughter had been assaulted by her partner and she was begging him not to do anything about it, because it would tank her career." and none of this ever has real follow-through in any way, because then the show would have to be about how there are a lot of corrupt cops and even the ones who aren't are bound by an immoral system, which would defeat the point of crime-of-the-week format (although I note they could've solved this issue by just not going so hard on the weird pro-cop episodes in the first place and just left it at an ambient amount of expected copaganda)

it's an interesting insight into the tension that exists between some of what the show is sort of trying to do with Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson as the main protagonists (acting outside The System), but someone on that writing team has the most cognitive dissonance about what that means in a show that's also about policing. maybe everyone on there.

but it introduces a whole different set of ideas than intended (if you're the kind of audience that isn't super unquestioning about police) which is, "hey this is like. really messed up. cops really think like this? that's kind of culty. anyone else think this is culty? and this is pro-policing??"

I think a different show that had a similarish remit in characters, that is "protagonist is investigating crimes but is operating outside of the system, and there are also cops" could do something with this attitude by having the protagonists go "huh. that. is messed up. get a different job if you all have PTSD? also how many people have you manhandled who were innocent, just... curious. and uh... how many internal crimes have you covered up for the Good Of The Team?"

alas, this iteration -- while certainly getting us some of the way -- will not have Sherlock sincerely questioning the American prison system. but it will have Joan challenging a cop to an Honours boxing match and winning, which sort of nudged on the above ideas so, will take it and play with it in my mind

[ineffable-hyperfixation]

Ahem *puts on best "ok people listen up" tone*

Good Omens (and everyone else) fandom! It seems we have regressed a bit....somehow? On the definition of Asexual! Let's clear this up!

Yes the actual literal meaning of the term: A=no sexual =....sex....well but actually no, which is the point of the post

Dictionary definition is why we are here!

Asexual: a person who experiences no sexual feelings or desires, or who is not sexually attracted to anyone.

Note the last line please!

Asexuality is a spectrum.

On one side you have: I cannot become sexually aroused by anything, and in some cases I do not want to

And on the other you (might) have: Literally any other stimulation other than A Face will do just fine!

Asexuals can be turned on by: the written word, a comic, a scene in a movie/show/porn/irl/etc, physical contact, etc!

There is a difference between attraction and desire! Allosexuals usually have that lumped into one thing, to them there (usually) isn't one without the other! If you're attracted to someone it means your body is uh...also good to go. For a lot of asexual people you can be attracted to someone, but your body's just off reading a book or something

Asexual people have crushes, fall in love, comment on how aesthetically pleasing someone is! But they probably don't want to jump their bones like right now (or possibly ever! Depends where you fall on the spectrum!)

You might say: no but! You're talking about demisexual people!

Maybe! Probably not! Demi is just a place way to one side of the spectrum. Where, after getting to know someone really well, you may actually look at them one day and go...."oh shit! Hi down there when'd you wake up??" Your attraction and desire have fused for this person/s...congrats!

An asexual person may never ever want to have sex with their partner. This is fine! But it needs to be discussed between everyone near the start of a relationship. And people need to acknowledge that "once you've found The One everything will click!" is pretty deeply internalized. Be sure you truly understand that that's not (necessarily) the case before commiting to a relationship

An asexual person may absolutely want to (awesome!), but have a hard time getting things moving (put down the damn book there are things to do!!) In which case it's good for all parties to see if they can figure out what sorts of things do turn you on, (as long as you're both willing and able), and how to approach letting your partner/s know they'd like to initiate fun times. (Without it coming across as awkward or pushy!) This makes for a healthy relationship!

"I'm doing this only to please my partner" is not healthy! It's also a really condescending thing to say about all asexual people! Please stop!!

And yeah an asexual person may indeed realize they're demi after starting a relationship! Neat!

Sexuality is like gender. It's all made up because we like labels! Your bits know what they want, when they want it! (Your brain ofc has the final say, I'm very well aware that bits go way off the rails sometimes, that's an entire other post lol)

Other people do not get to dictate how you feel, and like gender it can take a while to realize what your orientation may be. And that label can change so many times over the course of your life!!

Love who you love, have sex with who you (and they) want to have sex with, or don't!! But stop telling other people what they are and are not, simply because your definition or experience is different from theirs

(Please let me know if I've left out something crucial or gotten something horridly wrong! My research is personal/others experience + tumblr explanations + a google search here and there. Please do not come in my replies/comments/inbox telling me the whole post is wrong.....that's petty)

[everythingblackblack]

If Shinichi met Kuroba Kaito what would he think of him? Would he know of him from his mother (ignoring the cousins thing)? From Hakuba? Does he figure out he's Kid?

I think it depends a lot on the context, if there's no intervention from anyone, and we say that these two just meet on the street, Shinichi might think that Kaito is suspicious.

It's already been said that Shinichi has some kind of radar on KID, so it's likely that he senses it, but can't quite place it at first.

On the other hand, I feel that Kaito's internal dialogue would be "Damn, damn, he's here… I need to get out of here!", but of course, Shinichi wouldn't let him go that easily. __________________

It would definitely be fun if it was for his mother! I can see Shinichi arriving home, and then he sees a guy his age having tea with his mother in the garden, Yukiko makes the introductions: "This is Kaito Kuroba, he's basically my brother disciple, and he's also the son of my master, Toichi Kuroba, say hello to your uncle, Shinichi!" And on the other hand, Shinichi would start putting two and two together, Toichi Kuroba is a magician who passed away, master in the art of disguise, and he has a son his age, then he would shout… "You're Kaitou KID!" Then Yukiko would scold him because she doesn't want him to bother her guest. Kaito would joke that "I have a cute nephew now". _________________

Personally, I'm not a fan of Hakuba constantly pointing at Kaito as KID, so I don't think Hakuba would drag Shinichi around to get a second opinion on his prime suspect. Hakuba doesn't need it, and Kaito is his prey! He told him so himself! "Don't let anyone else catch you."

However, I think he would just enjoy the chaos happening around him, intervening slightly to divert Kudo's attention and annoy Kaito.

Hakuba will never confirm Shinichi's suspicions about Kaito, but he won't deny the obvious either. I imagine the following conversation:

"You've known him longer than I have, is he KID?"

Hakuba takes a sip from his cup of tea, falls silent, and ponders his answer.

"Inspector Nakamori said he suspected him once, but eventually withdrew the accusation because KID disguised himself as Aoko, certainly, using Kaito's face just to annoy Inspector Nakamori isn't that far-fetched."

Shinichi thinks about it and he's right, KID has disguised himself as Ran before to annoy him… Even himself!

There's something about the whole situation that doesn't sit right with him, but he decides to let it go for now.

I feel like Shinichi comes back to Hakuba later, saying things like "The guy is very suspicious" and Hakuba just thinks "I know" but doesn't say it and just asks "Well, do you have any evidence?", Shinichi replies "Just circumstantial", and Hakuba would say "That's not much use."

As Shinichi leaves, Kaito comes up behind him, but before he can say anything, Hakuba steps in front of him and says, "KID is my target, I won't share it, but in a heist I won't be so lenient."

"You're as creepy a detective as ever, but anyway, I don't care what you were talking about with that guy, Aoko wanted to treat you to dinner." Kaito feels very relieved even though he doesn't show it.

Kaito has animosity towards Hakuba, but Hakuba doesn't have those kinds of thoughts for him, so, I think if Shinichi were to intrude too much on his territory (outside of a heist), Hakuba would start investigating him, I imagine:

"You don't seem to come around Ekoda a lot?"

"I'm investigating a suspect."

"Now that you mention it, I think you're a bit suspicious."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me explain this another way. Don't you think it's suspicious that you disappeared for a whole year for a case and then had sporadic appearances here and there? The media says you were very focused on solving it, but it's strange… I don't think a case this complex would give you enough free time."

"The police can tell you, there's a whole file, and of course, I sometimes came to visit my friends and family."

"That's not what Hattori told me."

"I don't know where you're going with all this."

"I'm not interested in your secrets, but if you're intruding on my territory, I hope you're prepared for me to enter yours."

"Is that a threat?"

"A promise."

"All for a thief?"

"He's not just a thief, he's my secret to uncover, my puzzle to put together and I'm not going to share it, I won't stop your investigation, but I won't let you catch him either, I'm the only one who can catch him." __________ It wasn't intentional, but the writing has so many HakuKai vibes, I love Hakuba and he's so cool, I can't help but think of him as a mastermind who secretly loves chaos. I'm so sorry if this is so out of character, I got carried away.

[nickssidewitch]

💖🌟 Very, Very Important Note about My Blog:

While it’s nice to fantasize about the could-be’s with your favorite creators, artists, influencers, etc., you still have to snap back to reality every now and then. Writing fan-fiction, keeping up with your favorite celebs/creators on every platform, going to every live show, and even interacting with tarot/psychic/astrology pages can easily get someone wrapped up in a space of fantasy, which isn’t a bad thing unless you make that fantasy disturb the reality.

This is a good segue into the main point of this post: This page is not meant to confirm or deny definite & certain situations. It is for entertainment and educational purposes of tarot/spirituality/astrology only.

More below 👇🏾👇🏾!!

To be specific, I hope you guys are not asking me about a potential romantic/platonic relationship that you can have with the triplets (or anyone) to fuel your parasocial relationships into obsessive behaviors and mindsets. That is not healthy! I’m answering your asks from the perspective of an analyst: someone who analyzes your energy, someone who analyzes the triplets’ (or any other creator) energies, and simply compares the two energies to see if they blend well or not. I am not predicting that you will or won’t be with the triplets romantically or even platonically. This is purely just energy-based channeling of compatibility! That’s all I will ever do! The only things I will ever do as a more serious or definite prediction regarding any sort of relationship between you and the triplets is if you will ever meet them or not, whether it be on tour, at some meet-and-greet, or any situation like that.

Again, I will never ever tell anyone that they will definitely be in a relationship with anyone. That would create illusions and false promises of a future that will never happen, and I would absolutely never lie to anyone on here! That’s not good for the soul and is bad karma!

This is all in good fun and entertainment with a hint of education on the spiritual world, and every reading or channeling I do is simply only based off of yours and their energies. I do not know the triplets personally, nor do I know you all personally. I only use energy, which is never linear or definite unless the energy is confirmed by the persons I’m reading about in some way.

Doing readings on the triplets is all fun, and is all just based on their energies and the information that their spirit guides are okay with me providing. I’m sort of a spiritual middleman in a sense, a spiritual translator is some ways as well. That’s why I’m so particular with the questions and asks I do answer, because some of those questions are things that their spirit guides block for me in order to protect that aspect of their energies and also so that certain information is not made public. The posts I make on who their future partners are, what their love languages are, etc., are all energy-based and are sometimes subject to change depending on their personal life journeys and energy shifts! Their guides have happily given me the okay to share that information during readings because they trust it’s going to the right place and is not going to be skewed by me.

Please, please, please remember to be kind to your bodies, minds, and souls. Your next life will appreciate the thought and care you put into this one! Don’t get yourself wrapped up in fantasy and delusion to the point where it can harm you or the people around you. It’s okay the have fun and fantasize; just do not internalize anything. Please.

If you have any questions about my spiritual processes as well as spirituality, please don’t hesitate to ask!! And if you would like me to clarify anything in this post, please ask me to clarify them! Sometimes I doubt my articulation skills, so I’m hoping people can really comprehend what I’m saying! 🤞🏾😭

I love you all so much! Thank you for the support of this page and your support of me personally! You all deserve a big, warm hug and some freshly baked cookies of whatever flavors you enjoy! 🥰💖🫂🍪✨

-Kiki 🤍✨

[ca-suffit]

i haven’t read the books but from the way some book stans talk about lestat like he’s some saint, i was not expecting sam in that interview to be like no actually he loves being evil and he’s really good at it and all the stuff about male rage/akasha and the devil being like wow he’s so terrible i need to recruit him actually. and i’ve seen the odd comment on twitter that’s like oh poor sam for having to put up with this lestat character assassination. like i don’t wanna call ppl out but i saw someone say “he signed up for anne rice’s iwtv, not rolin jones’s iwtv 😢” like ??? no actually he did sign up for rolin’s adaptation. and then they act like he’s so put out by the changes like a) he’s getting paid to pay his favorite character i think he’s okay. and b) even if he has reservations or questions about a change or even outright disagrees with one, he’s always full of praise for the final product and for rolin in general. like girl he is fine lol. like he said, some changes needed to be made and were for the greater good e.g. wrt improving the louis character.

I forget if he clarified in the interview or not, but that bit he says about going to hell comes right from the books

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these." I should have taken a deep breath. But you know, it was like playing the violin for Akasha. I wanted to do it. I wanted to see what would happen, I mean, with a beautiful little girl like that! Oh, Lestat, you deserve everything that ever happened to you. You'd better not die. You might actually go to hell. But why was it that for purely selfish reasons, I didn't listen to some of the advice given me? Why didn't I learn from any of them-Gabrielle, Armand, Marius? But then, I never have listened to anyone, really. Somehow or other, I never can.

he's not a saint (but he wants to be one for a second lol) but I personally didn't feel like he was that "evil" either. anne rice wasn't rly a good writer and fired her editor 3 books in on top of it. the series was unplanned and it's a wreck. he does awful shit but nothing I'd view makes him rly "evil," so it was a struggle for me to get on board with all that. an internal fight about how he views himself, I could understand, but idk what was rly that bad otherwise. especially cuz she was so in luv with him that consequences for anything he does just drop off as the books go? let me not write a whole thing about this lol. but ya the good and evil thing is from the books. the rice-a-ronis do mention it in posts sometimes but ever since the show has aired, everything has to be explained away now, bcuz they don't like black and brown characters or fans judging their white fav. he's either an innocent meow meow or a gothic monster, depending what mood they're in that day to dodge whatever criticism comes for them.

AMC explores a lot of stories about violent men so I've never understood this insistence like it's going to be some soft romantic series. the romance is gonna exist in the violence somehow, especially cuz they're vampires. louis slamming dreamstat's head into a rock wall while being goaded to do it bcuz dreamstat says it's the only way louis knows how to luv is sort of peak loustat for where we're at rn. I'm sure eventually they'll be more tender but it's still gonna have gritty undertones for the network it's on and who is writing it. the stans luv to make it about gendered shit, like rolin is ruining it all bcuz he's a man, but anne rice wrote violent, fucked up things too. worse than the show is prbly going to go. it's all excuses. u can just not like something without having to justify ur dislike of it to death. like damn. it's not ur taste, just stop watching??

and yes sam is a grown ass man getting prbly a good paycheck from this so loll he will be fine!

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Sometimes Change Can Be Better

John "Soap" MacTavish X Reader Platonic!Task Force 141 X Reader

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

a/n:this fic was brought on by an idea that @gaylemonshark and I had, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

You and Marc had been the best of friends since childhood, you were the first person he opened up to when it came to his DID. His parents were completely unaware of the struggles he dealt with, from blaming himself for his brother's death, to his mothers abuse. He had told you first when he signed up for the army, shocked that you had beaten him to it. Your parents had been disappointed, angry that you were willingly putting yourself into danger. You didn’t want to admit it was because of Marc, that you’d heard whispers of what he planned to do. It had been a long and grueling few years, testing your limits every single day. Marc was the only reason you’d managed to stay alive as long, keeping you safe.

So when he got dishonorably discharged you followed suit, leaving your life behind to join Marc in where his adventure led him next. And then you’d been shot and left for dead, watching Marc crawl into the tomb your team had been raiding. No one had known that they were living their last few minutes, shot execution style. Except for you and Marc, for some reason they’d assumed you would die and left before you could say otherwise. A strange light seemed to glow from inside the tomb, causing you to shut your eyes tight. Marc had come running out moments later, pressing his hands against the wound.

“You’re gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise.” And Marc, true to his word, made sure you survived the night.

He’d told you all about Khonshu, the Egyptian god that had given him the ceremonial robes so he could help keep people safe. He’d done everything he could to make sure no harm ever came to you, of course after taking care of a few loose ends. It lessened the guilt he felt after dropping you off in London, saying that he couldn’t risk your life anymore. It had hurt to be left behind, you’d given up your entire life for him, and this was the thanks you got? Of course he had never asked you to do that, but you didn’t have anyone else in your life.

And then one day he simply showed back up, bag thrown over his shoulder and a poor excuse as to why he’d suddenly come back. You wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him that you wanted nothing to do with him. Except you couldn’t do that, not to someone that had been your friend for so long. So you invited him in and made him a cup of coffee. He admitted to everything, getting married to a woman named Layla, getting divorced from said woman. You were more upset that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding than the fact he’d gotten married.

There were never romantic feelings between the two of you, something you were a little thankful for considering that could end a friendship faster than anything. Marc on the other hand would scare away any romantic partner that tried to get close to you. It became very annoying after the first few times, especially when you wanted nothing more than for someone to warm your bed for the night. You’d all but kicked him out for the night, demanding to be left alone until you called him in the morning. Marc had showed up nearly four hours after you called, more annoyed than anything.

“Now you know how it feels! I’m not a kid Marc, you don’t need to worry about me at every turn and corner.” You didn’t want him to keep hovering, it was becoming tiresome.

“I’m going to worry about you anyway, you’re my best friend.” Marc patted your shoulder gently, heading over to make himself a cup of coffee.

You opened your mouth to make a retort, that even though the two of you were the best of friends that you needed space sometimes. However a bright light encompassed your entire apartment, bathing the space in a warmth that seemed to sink into your bones. It was the sudden pull that worried you, what the hell was going on?

“Marc?!” Your panicked scream caught his attention, turning around and shielding his eyes from the light.

“Y/N!” Marc reached towards you, body pulling into what felt like a black hole.

Your body was thrown around, struggling to slow down as you hurtled toward somewhere completely foreign. The ground came hurtling towards you faster than you’d been expecting, throwing your arms out to try and stop yourself from slamming against the hard wood. Unfortunately it did little to soften the blow, pain radiated throughout your entire body as you lay gasping for air. After a few excruciating moments you had finally been able to catch your breath, pushing up and off the floor slowly.

A gun pressed itself against the back of your head, an imposing form stood ramrod straight and waiting to see what explanation you would be able to give.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but I’m pretty sure I just got transported from my universe.” Sure there were Norse gods and even Egyptian gods that roamed the streets in your world, but this wasn’t home.

“You really think I’m dumb enough to believe that?” The gun pressed closer, digging into your skin as the person stepped closer.

“I swear! I was in my apartment with a friend of mine when this big ball of light came out of nowhere.” God you really did sound insane, they definitely weren’t going to believe you now.

You waited with baited breath for the safety to turn off, but no such noise happened. Instead the person behind you lowered the gun, stepping away from you slowly. You didn’t so much as relax your breathing, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. It was better to assume the worst than believe that everything would be alright.

“You’re coming with me.” A hand wrapped around your bicep, all but dragging you out of the room and into what looked like a living room.

Holy shit, had you managed to land yourself in someone’s apartment? Oh shit you were definitely not going to make it out alive now. Would Marc be able to find you before they did unspeakable things to your body?

“You were right, Price, something did happen.” The man shoved you towards a kitchen table.

Three men sat around the table, sending a nervous shiver down your spine as you took them all in slowly. The one closest to you could damn well be a model, you were half tempted to ask him if he was. The man in the middle had a look about him that screamed dad. Was he the dad of the group? The man on the left of him, to your right,  definitely had you feeling a little more tongue tied. He had a rugged look about him that screamed “I’ve definitely seen some shit, but I can also make you laugh”. Definitely the cutest out of the three that you could see, considering your captor(?)was wearing a balaclava.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Dad had leaned forward, hands clasped atop of the table.

“Y/N, sir.” Why did you feel the need to be so formal with him? Or with any of the men for that matter.

“Can you tell us exactly how you got here?” You nodded, pulling out the chair closest to you before sitting down.

You left out some of the less than pleasant details, only letting them know that you’d had a small argument with a friend before you suddenly found yourself here. To anyone that hadn’t witnessed what you had, they would’ve thought you were insane for sure. For someone like you it was normal, watching people from different universes land right in front of you. Hell, you had been snapped from existence for five years because of some purple alien. That was a horrible time, but after finding out that Marc had been snapped too you felt a little better.

“Have to admit, it’s pretty insane, but there’s stuff we just can’t explain.” It sounded like a poor excuse, but you’d told them all you could.

It helped ease your mind for a moment, if they believed that you hadn’t somehow snuck in to cause issues then surely everything would be alright. Hopefully Marc wasn’t getting himself into too much trouble.

_______

It felt strange being around the team, but at the same time you’d grown quite close to the group of men. You and Gaz had become nearly inseparable after meeting, playing harmless pranks on the other guys. It was kind of nice to not have any worries for a little while, even if the time was slowly taunting you. It had been nearly six months since you’d arrived and there was no guarantee that you would be leaving at all.

On one hand you didn’t want to, these people were some of the best you’d met in your entire life. Being a veteran helped get you into their good graces a little quicker, you had told them about your own past, the things you’d bared witness too. It was simply a natural thing for you, once you felt comfortable with someone new you’d bare your soul. The group had offered to head out to a pub for a night out, and who were you to object?

However you’d forgotten how much of a lightweight you were, and after only two drinks and three shots in you were definitely drunk.

“I’m telling ya! There’s a correlation between daddy issues and wanting to be bear hugged.” Your filter had slipped away completely, leaving you vulnerable to your own words.

“And why do ya say that?” Soap was more confused than anything by your statement.

“My dad was super emotionally absent, never told me he was proud of me, never told me he loved me, and was overall really sucky.” You normally never talked about your parents, considering neither of them were very supportive.

It hadn’t bothered you as often anymore, considering the fact that you’d slowly started to accept the fact that you’d be on your own. They were angry when you decided to stay in London, even after Marc stopped speaking to you. You wanted to visit for the holidays, but with how standoffish they’d become it was better to avoid them altogether. Sometimes a family you make is better than a family you have.

“Well, why don’t we test the theory?” Price stood up from the booth, smiling when you all but threw yourself over Soap’s lap.

“Yes please!” You threw your arms around his waist, relishing in the way his arms tightened around you.

Hugging Price felt like coming inside after a cold winter day to a bowl of warm soup, the first rays of sunshine after a rainstorm. It truly was something that you couldn’t fully explain, but it slowly warmed your heart. Even though he didn’t have any children of his own just yet, Price definitely gave a warm dad hug.

“I could fall asleep standing here if you let me.” You laughed into his chest, the soft scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

“As much as I’m sure you’d like to do that, we are standing in people’s way.” John was the first to let go, patting your shoulder gently.

“Thank you, it means more than you’d think.” You squeezed him one last time, sliding back into the booth beside Johnny.

The conversation seemed to flow to a lighter topic, leaving you feeling both comforted and happy that you could really open up. Kyle and Simon were talking about the different sights they’d see during missions, how they wished they sometimes could take photos as keepsakes. You knew how dangerous memories could be, if the wrong person found out where you’d been on a certain day it could end in death for you, or someone close to you. So instead you kept everything to memory,

Sunrises when you’d spent the entire night trying to run from the enemy, sunsets alongside Marc who was doing his best to ruin your day. Life hadn’t turned out the way you’d expected, nothing ever truly did, but this was a nice change of pace. You were surrounded by people who wanted you there, who laughed at the terrible jokes you made, who brought your spirits up when you were upset. It made you miss Marc at times, considering how long you’d known one another, but he wasn’t here.

Johnny leaned back in his spot, casually stretching and laying his arm across the booth along your back. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, it was something you’d seen in countless movies, and dealt with time and time again before. You didn’t say anything though, waiting to see if Johnny would work up the courage. Your prayers were answered as his arm slid down, warm skin pressing against your own as his fingers rested against your shoulder. Simon was the first to notice what was going on, a smirk pulling at his lips. He wouldn’t draw anymore attention, knowing it could ruin an otherwise sweet moment.

“Why don’t we get something to eat, soak up some of the liquor our dear friend has been drinking?” John slid out of the booth, pulling Simon with him to go put the order in at the bar.

“I’m gonna help em, lord knows they’ll end up dropping all the damn plates.” Kyle rolled his eyes, sliding out and following behind the other two men.

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

“Looks like they abandon us, how rude.” His tone was teasing and playful, but with his lips being so close to your ear it sent a shudder down your spine.

“Well I think you’re correct, quite rude of them indeed.” You turned your head, eyes locking onto his.

His eyes were like deep blue pools, and you felt that you would get lost in them if given the chance. Had he always been this beautiful, or was your mind suddenly clear enough to see what was truly in front of you? Your eyes flicked to his lips and back up, when had your mouth suddenly become so dry? Johnny didn’t give you another moment to debate before pulling you flush to his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist. The other three hadn’t come back yet and you were grateful, nothing worse than having your kiss ruined.

“Johnny, please.” Your voice was breathy, hand sliding up his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled before pressing his lips to yours so softly, you weren’t sure if you’d ascended to the heavens or not.

Your lips moved together methodically, the stubble lining his chin burned so pleasantly. He groaned into the kiss, hands gripping your waist tighter. Someone clearing their throat loudly caused the two of you to pull apart, you couldn’t hide the embarrassment on your face. Johnny of course was as confident as ever, hiding your face in his side to protect you.

“We come bearing food, so if you wouldn’t mind not acting like teenagers that would be wonderful.” Kyle set down two plates along with Simon and John setting down the other five.

“Sorry, got a little distracted.” You playfully slapped Johnny’s chest, straightening yourself up and fixing your hair to be more presentable.

“We know, you have some lipstick leftover.” Johnny reached up to wipe off his lips, noticing that Kyle wasn’t lying.

“They said it was transfer proof, damnit.” You’d gone shopping earlier that day, wanting to get a few more personal things since you were still stuck here.

“Don’t believe those, had plenty of girls kiss me and leave their mark.” Kyle was confident, and for good reason, so you weren’t surprised he’d pulled many ladies before.

John shut down any more comments and instructed everyone to dig in before the food started to get cold. You grabbed the mozzarella sticks right away, laughing when Simon gave you a shocked expression. Who didn’t love fried cheese? It was downright delicious. You gladly handed over a few of them in exchange for some of the fries he had. The food hit the spot, soaking up your drinks and sobering you up ever so slightly. You were definitely still tipsy, but nothing like before.

The rest of the night was filled with stories and laughter, putting you on the spot to tell an embarrassing story as everyone else had done so. You told a story about you walking in on Marc and his girlfriend at the time doing the hanky panky. It was a story you and Marc joked about constantly, mainly because the girl he was dating was loud. Had it not been for your headphones you would have heard them in the hallways. Kyle promised not to walk in on you and Johnny later, further causing you to hide in shame.

John was driving everyone back, seeing that he’d only had one pint early on in the night and didn’t trust anyone else to drive in their inebriated states. Simon called shotgun immediately, leaving Kyle stuck with you and Johnny in the backseat. You knew to behave, being in a confined space was a recipe for disaster. Your mind went back to where Marc was, and if he was safe. Surely he could handle his own, he’d done it for years after he left you to fend for yourself in London.

“Alright, please make it to your rooms and do not get into the damn kitchen again please.” John had pulled up outside of his apartment.

It was an agreement that any time you guys went out everyone would crash at someone’s apartment to make sure they were all doing well the next day. Simon was a tank when it came to alcohol, he could drink everyone under the table and still seem as if he was sober. Kyle could hold his own but he became very giggly and cuddly. John was your typical drunk guy, made bad jokes and laughed at everything. Johnny you were beginning to learn was a major flirt, and a damn good kisser.

“Alright captain, see you in the morning.” Kyle made himself comfortable on the couch, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable.

“You two better behave, don’t want the neighbors banging on my door because you kept them up.” John pointed his finger between you and Johnny.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be good.” Johnny steered you towards one of the extra bedrooms, shutting the door behind you.

You grabbed your pajamas and laid them on the bed, sliding your shirt off before unclipping your bra with a soft groan. No one liked wearing bras, they were uncomfortable and annoying to put on and taking them off felt so good.

“Jesus.” Johnny’s voice was breathless, gaze wandering over the skin that was now on display.

“Mmm?” You’d completely forgotten he was in the room with you for a moment, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs.

“All this for me?” Johnny walked over slowly, palms sliding over your back and sides.

His skin was hot to the touch, like fire and ice.

“Maybe.” You leant back against his chest, relishing in the feeling of his body and hands against yours.

“I’ll be sure to appreciate it very much.” His lips pressed against your neck, sliding down to the waistband of your panties.

You couldn’t stop the moan that slipped through your lips, not realizing you would be making those noises for the rest of the night.

—---------

Sunlight was streaking along your intertwined bodies, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room as the two of you slept peacefully. Simon and Kyle tiptoed in the room, carefully pulling the sheet over your body so that you would still be covered in case Johnny flailed. Somehow both men had woken up completely fine, no hangovers in sight. Stepping away from the bed Kyle raised his hands to start clapping loudly. Simon prepared himself for however Johnny was going to react.

“Wakey wakey love birds! Time to get up!” Both you and Johnny lunged up in bed, grabbing onto the sheet to keep yourself modest.

“Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Johnny was more annoyed at being woken up than that they were seeing the two of you nearly nude.

“John’s making food and wanted us to get you.” Simon shrugged before heading back out of the room, letting Kyle shut it behind him.

You flopped back into the pillows, head throbbing with a hangover from all the alcohol you’d had the night before. Clearly they hadn’t been affected and now you were annoyed. Not only was your head throbbing from the hangover, your entire body was sore from last night as well. Johnny was a man who knew damn well how to make you feel good and leave you wanting even more.

“Mmm, c’mere.” Johnny slid his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own.

“Don’t think I could take you again this morning, a little too sore.” It was a good type of sore, something that would resonate for a couple of days at the least.

“‘S too bad, could just eat you right up.” His lips pressed against your neck softly, trailing down until they reached the top of your chest.

“Johnny, please.” Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, breath shaky as you tried to stop the racing of your heart.

Unfortunately Simon chose that moment to start banging on the door, demanding the two of you come out and eat breakfast. Both you and Johnny groaned, pulling away from one another to grab your clothes. He didn’t bother to pull on a shirt, leaving his torso on display in all its glory.

“Better put on a shirt unless you want Simon pointing out all the hickies you have.” His chest and neck were littered with dark purple splotches, scratches lining the skin on his back.

“You just don’t want ‘em seeing your handiwork.” Johnny was a confident man, had every right to be considering how he looked.

“Maybe I want to keep you all to myself for a little longer.” The shirt you’d stolen from Simon a couple months ago landed on your mid thigh, covering the shorts you’d thrown on.

“After breakfast I’m all yours.” Johnny threw a wink your way, pulling on his shirt from last night before heading out to the kitchen.

You fanned yourself for a moment, memories from the night before flooding your mind. Hopefully they hadn’t heard you and their teammate getting down and dirty like two college kids. John was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through his laptop almost absentmindedly. Gaz and Simon were both cooking breakfast and brewing tea, and coffee for whoever wanted to partake. The moment Johnny’s eyes landed on you he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Keep it PG you kids, don’t want to see the two of you going at it.” You hid your face in Johnny’s neck, hiding the way your whole body flushed.

“No worries cap, we’ll behave.” It didn’t matter if he was joking, Johnny wouldn’t push you if it made you uncomfortable.

You went to make a retort at John, to tell him that you were going to be on your best behavior around everyone else, until a knock at the door stopped you. It could be a number of people, and now you were nervous that they were going to be sent on a mission and leave you here. John went over to see who it was, opening the door slowly and carefully.

“Can I help you?” His voice wasn’t friendly, whoever this was was a complete stranger.

“Uhh hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine and I think she might be here?” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Marc?” Your head whipped up, body straightening as you waited to see if you were correct.

“Y/N?” Marc sounded shocked, he’d finally managed to find you.

John stepped back to let him inside, shutting the door behind him to keep the sense of privacy to everyone else in the apartment. You were ecstatic to see him standing before you, it’d been so long that you weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. Pressing a quick kiss to Johnny’s cheek you pushed yourself to run over to Marc, hugging him tightly.

“It’s been so long! Where the hell have you been?” If you were an honest person you’d tell Marc he looked like hell, his hair was a little longer, a beard covering his normally smooth cheeks.

“I’ve been looking for you, I’m pretty sure we both got sent here.” Marc suddenly realized how many people were standing around staring at him.

Simon was glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest as Gaz simply raised a brow in a “who the fuck are you?” type of expression. You were too afraid to turn around and look at Johnny and see how he looked.

“Sorry, these guys have been keeping safe since I got here. That’s Simon, Kyle, John, and Johnny.” You turned back around to face Johnny, noticing that he didn’t look angry at all, he looked almost lovestruck.

“Nice to meet everyone.” Marc wouldn’t admit how nervous he felt, it was obvious these men could kill someone and make it look like an accident.

“How’d you manage to find me?” You pulled him over to the table, sitting back in Johnny’s lap while Marc took the chair between you and John.

He began to explain how he’d landed somewhere in the US and spent the first couple months trying to work odd jobs to help get enough money to find you. Khonshu had also followed him, so at least he was safe from anyone who wanted to harm him. And then he began to talk about how he illegally hacked into a military base and managed to find you through security cameras. Had you not gone out with the boys the previous night it would’ve taken him longer to find you, according to Marc at least.

“So, get your stuff so we can go home.” Marc stood up, brushing off his pants and waiting for you to comply.

“Oh..Marc I don’t think I want to go back.” Your life here has been happier in the last few months than back in your own universe.

“What? Are you serious right now?” Marc was getting annoyed, why the hell would you want to stay somewhere you didn’t exist?

“Yes, I actually have people that like having me around, it’s not like my parents are going to be so sad that I suddenly disappeared.” They’d move on within a few weeks, you were sure of it.

Marc wanted to retort, to say that you were making a horrible decision by staying with people you truly didn’t know, but with the way one of them was glaring at him, he thought better of it.

“If I go back without you, there’s a chance you’ll never be able to go back, I need you to understand that.” Marc was hoping you would understand where he was coming from, however you stood strong.

“Marc, you know I care about you a lot, but I didn’t have a purpose there, I was working a deadend job waiting to see what life would give to me. I was depressed and not even you cared enough to stick around for longer than a week.” You loved Marc, and Steven, but you needed something stable in your life.

“I’ll give you a few more days to think about it, but if your mind is truly made up then I’ll leave you to it.” Marc sighed, turning without another word and leaving the apartment.

Johnny gently squeezed your hip, trying to reassure you that he was here if you needed the support. You laid your fingers overtop of his own, his touch seeming to ground you even more than usual. John was frowning, it was a look that you didn’t prefer seeing on his face, or any of theirs for that matter.

“I need to know, I don’t want to push myself onto you guys if you don’t want me here, I know I just kind of got dropped here by accident but..yeah.” Your heart started to race, what if they didn’t want you to stay after all?

“Sweetheart, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we would love nothing more than for you to stay here with us, you’ve been the best thing that came into all of our lives.” Johnny’s words warmed your soul.

You’d finally found your purpose, felt like you truly belonged somewhere you’d found yourself, albeit by complete and total accident. You would sit down and talk with Johnny before making the final decision, this wasn’t something to take lightly.

—-------

Marc was waiting inside the cafe near the apartment you were staying in, waiting to see if you would be coming home with him or if this was a final goodbye. He’d ordered himself a coffee, rolling his eyes at the looks he got from the barista. Sure, they were in England and he could’ve let Steven take over when ordering but he wanted to speak with you personally.

“Sorry I’m late!” You ran over to the table, pulling out the chair and sitting down quickly.

“I’ve only been here for a couple minutes anyway, you’re fine.” Marc wouldn’t tell you the truth, that he’d finished his coffee and nearly ordered a second cup.

“I’ve made my decision, I sat down with everybody and we talked about what would be best for them but also for me.” You looked down at the table, afraid to see the hurt that was coursing through his eyes.

Marc already knew the answer, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving with you by his side, that he was losing the one true friend he had. It was painful, deep down he would always think about your friendship and how even through thick and thin you were there for him. This wasn’t his decision though, you were able to make your own decisions and he needed to respect that.

“Umm, Stephen Strange contacted me last night, he found out about what had happened and offered to let us come back today and when I told him that I wanted to stay he promised that we could keep in touch.” You looked up slowly, watching the realization dawn on Marc’s face.

“Wait, he’d be able to let me visit?” This wasn’t something he thought possible, he’d always assumed it would be a one way ticket home.

“He gave me a way to contact him if I ever wanted, or needed to see you.” Your eyes filled with tears, a happy smile pulling up your face.

Marc threw himself around the table, pulling you into a vice tight hug. He wouldn’t lose you after all. Steven was rejoicing in his head, he seemed even happier with the news you had given them.

“Better let me be invited to your wedding.” Marc muttered into your hair, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ll be the first to know.” You pressed your face further into his chest, letting tears soak into the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot kid, try not to get into too much trouble without me around.” Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, this day was ending on a much happier note.

“I’ll try.” You pulled from his embrace, giving him one last smile before running from the coffee shop to where Johnny was waiting outside.

Marc watched the way he wrapped you up in his arms, smothering your face in kisses while you laughed loudly. He’d always been your protector, needing to keep you safe from the horrors of the world, but now you had someone else to do that for you. And he wouldn’t lose you, not anymore.

[mommy-mortis]

Inspired by @thevanityofthefox I decided to make my own SuperHero OC (I used myself as a reference)

Mother Mary

Strongest Abilities:

The power of persuasion, can force anyone to do anything by just asking (ex: Mother Mary: Can you... victim: Sure thing no problem) can be used from any distance the only requirement is that the person has to understand them.

Secret Ability:

Can feel a persons true intentions (what their goals are/what they plan to do to Mary) through touch.

Other Abilities:

Can heal others by taking on their injuries

Can fly also has wings that are mostly just for show and are translucent

Can heal rapidly while not healing someone else

Extremely slow Aging

Disadvantages/Fears:

Is not strong physically (can't throw a punch or really defend themselves though hand to hand combat)

Though they can heal quickly while not healing someone else at the time, if the injury they are healing for someone else is too great they run the risk of dying (ex: if someones guts are falling out, they would most likely die if they were to try healing that person)

Hyper aware that they may live forever and have developed a strong phobia of watching loved ones die.

Being alive during the end of the world

Personality

Nonchalant to a fault

Survival at all cost

comes off as nice but really just uses niceness to survive

Chaotic Neutral

can be naive, but quick to understand when they're in danger.

Loves to cook and go grocery shopping

Shy with romance exhibitionist with Sex

Civilian Clothing

Glasses

Vintage American dresses think 1940's-50's

shoes with a slight heel (Kitty heel)

Demure compared to super hero get up

How would they fair against THE HOMELANDER (JOHN CENA do dodododo)

Mother Mary's power of persuasion would slow Homelander down, if she could say the right words to placate him she would be able to get away for awhile, but if Mother Mary failed and ended up angering him he would easily be able to throw her around like a rag-doll.

Homelander, would most likely not be able to kill Mother Mary with blunt force, but he would be able to just pick Mary up and put them in a cell if she became to much of a nuisance, where she would most likely go crazy, her body forcing her to live, which would be worst than death for Mary.

Her work relationship/friendship? with Homelander

Would most likely try to stay out of his way, but could end up in more trouble if he realized she was avoiding him on purpose.

Mother Mary is a people pleaser, would try and placate Homelander with overt friendliness (think Minnesota nice) knitting him sweaters, buying him mugs or stupid little knick knacks, which in turn could lead to misunderstandings.

Would peep Homelander's Mommy/Milk fetish immediately and use that to her advantage if she had to.

Mother Mary's greatest non-supe strength is adaptability, rarely surprised by the unusual things that might happen at Vought (oh look, Homelander painted the walls with the new intern, why? because he brought him skim instead of whole milk) she kind of just shrugs it all off, trying to flow with the tide (Yeah Homeland you're right that guy was an asshole who the fuck drinks skim? (would proceed to never stock skim milk in their fridge ever again))